Chapter 118


    Brett rushed into the elevator with a lunchbox and went straight to the fifth floor, finding many


    doctors and nurses crowding the hallway,forting patients in their rooms.


    As he was about to pass by, Brett heard people murmuring in the crowd.


    "Someone from the psych ward upstairs escaped and bit a person. If the doctors hadn''t arrived in


    time, it would have been disastrous."


    "How bad is the injury?"


    "She got her ear bitten. It''s all bloody and hard to see, but it looks like her ear was almost bitten off."


    "Shit—"


    Brett''s face turned pale, and he pushed through the crowd, running forward. His lunchbox was


    identally bumped and flew out of his hand,nding on the floor with a loud thud. The soup and


    food spilled all over the floor, turning the appetizing meal into a disgusting mess.


    "Who the hell is that guy rushing like that? He didn’t even apologize for bumping into people, and


    the mess all over the floor!"


    Brett ignored thements and continued running. He almost tripped, but managed to regain his


    bnce and kept running. All he could think about was Izabe.


    The door should have been closed when he left, but it was wide open now. Panic filled his heart as


    he burst into the room, "Izabe!"


    Izabe, who was curled up in bed, looked up at him with a stiff expression. She seemed to see


    Brett in a frantic state for the first time.


    Brett was panting, his clothes and pants soaked, his leather shoes muddy, and his hair was a mess.


    Izabe almost forgot that he was obsessive about cleanliness.


    "Are you alright?" Brett entered the room, carefully checking Izabe from head to toe. When he


    saw that she was unharmed, he breathed a sigh of relief. He had feared that she might have been


    the one bitten by the patient.


    Izabe didn''t respond, and just closed her eyes to continue sleeping.


    With a bitter smile, Brett stood by her bedside.


    His lunchbox had been spilled in the hallway, so he had to order takeout.


    After cing the order, Brett looked at Izabe''s sleeping face. He couldn''t help but raise his hand


    to touch her eyes.


    His hand had just been covered in soup, so he went to wash it clean before touching Izabe.


    Though Izabe pretended to be asleep, she was very much awake. She had sensed Brett


    approaching and wanted to hide, but her body just couldn''t move.


    Brett gently touched Izabe''s forehead and nced at her clenched fist with traces of blood. He


    carefully held Izabe''s hand, rxing her fingers one by one to see the wounds in her palm. His


    lips pursed in anger.


    In just a short time of his absence, she had already hurt herself.


    After this incident, Brett didn''t dare to leave Izabe again. He even had the takeout delivered to her


    room.


    Izabe began to recover five dayster. Afterpleting her therapy, the psychologist called Brett


    for a meeting.


    Content (C) N?v/elDra/ma.Org.


    "Izabe has something to tell you. Her emotions are now under control. Don''t push her, just listen


    to what she has to say. If you can, just listen instead of talking." The doctor had seen how sharp


    Brett could be with his words, enough to infuriate people and possibly make Izabe''s condition


    worse.


    "I know my limits." Brett went into Izabe''s room, smiling. What could she want to tell him?


    Izabe looked the same outwardly but seemed emotionally detached. Brett could feel that the


    burning passion she once had for him had disappeared.


    Izabe sat up in bed, not looking at Brett but focusing on the floor.


    Brett stopped at a safe distance from her, too afraid to get closer.


    Finally, after a long silence, Izabe hoarsely asked, "Was it me who pushed Kaley?"


    Brett''s heart pounded with anxiety.


    "I made a mistake, and you threw me off the stairs. What about her?"


    "You didn''t do anything wrong. It was my fault, and I''ve already made Kaley move out. I''ve warned


    her not to do anything like this to you again."


    With a mockingugh, Izabe looked up at Brett. "If I called the police, you''d surely protect her. If I


    wanted a divorce, you''d do everything you could to stop me."


    Brett''s heart sank. "I won''t divorce you."


    "I know." Izabe''s gaze shifted to the window bars, but it was not just them that trapped her body


    and soul.


    "After all, I''m not dead in yours hands yet, so how could you let me go so easily?"


    Brett tried to speak, but no words could exin himself.


    Izabe clenched her lips with a trembling voice, "Brett, how many times do I have to die before


    you''re satisfied?"